Eternity Bound
by Sar'Kalu
Summary: AU. While duelling in the girls bathroom on the second floor, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are transported to a new dimension of Earth. One where Gods, Angels and Demons walks the Earth. Slash/FemSlash/HeteronormativeSex/Incest warnings!


**Title**

Eternity Bound

**Author**

Sar'Kalu

Summary

AU. While duelling in the girls bathroom on the second floor, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are transported to a new dimension of Earth. One where Gods, Angels and Demons walks the Earth. Stranded, but not alone, Draco and Harry fight to retain their humanity in an ever increasingly strange world where the rules no longer apply and where it is so easy to forget that, once, they were human too. Slash/FemSlash/Incest Warnings

Disclaimer

Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and Warner Brothers and their affiliated. Supernatural is the intellectual property of Eric Kripke and Kripke Enterprises and their affiliates.

Rating

M: violence, explicit sexual acts and blood and gore. References to abuse and sexual abuse.

* * *

><p><span>Prologue<span>

Lost for Eternity

**[Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland; 1997]**

_"__Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed._

_"__Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't . . . tell me what's wrong . . . I can help you. . . ."_

_"__No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it. . . . I can't. . . . It won't work . . . and unless I do it soon . . . he says he'll kill me. . . ."_

_And Harry realised, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying — actually crying — tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into the cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought __Levicorpus__! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another —_

_"__No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"_

_There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy's ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, "__Aeter__ —"*_

_"__SECTUMSEMPRA__!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly."**_

"— _Pellar_," Draco screamed.

The spells collided with a blinding flash of brilliant light. Myrtle, who'd hidden herself above the window, peered over the ledge with wide fearful eyes. Staring at the mess her bathroom had become in dismay, it took the ghost a few seconds to realise that the cause of the destruction, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, were no longer there and all that remained were scorched tiles and shattered mirrors. It would take the Professors and Ministry almost a year to realise that the heirs of Potter and Malfoy would not be returning, by which stage, Lord Voldemort would reign triumphant over Magical Britain.

*Spell changed from 'Crucio' (torture curse) to 'Aeterpellar' (expelling curse)

**Fragment from: Rowling, J. K. _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_. London: Bloomsbury publishing, 2005. Pp521-522. PDF version.

**xXx**

**[Moors of Scotland, Scotland; Unknown]**

Draco Malfoy shot upright, remembering the last moments of time, the heat of sizzling hexes and spells as they whizzed past his face and the fury within Potter's eyes as he glared at him. Scrambling upright and clutching his wand tightly, Draco took in his position, noting with disdain that it was softly raining and that he was outside, soaking wet. Pulling his school robes tightly about himself, Draco watched a trio of crows fly overhead, their harsh caws echoing mournfully across the empty landscape.

A groan to his left announced Potter's stirring, the shattered remains of his glasses spread across his face in a series of bloody cuts. Potter sat upright, checking his extremities in a way that suggested that this was not the first time Potter had found himself in a potentially life threatening situation. Sneering, Draco waved his wand about himself, casting a warming charm and revelling in the heat it provided him.

"Get up, Potter," Draco snapped, his voice tight with anger. "This is your stupid fault we're here!" Draco glared around him, his wand tip sparking with magical heat as he watched the darker haired boy leap to his feet, stumble and steady himself, all the while pointing his wand in the direction of Draco. "What did you do, Potter?!"

"Me?!" Harry shrilled, his voice cracking slightly. "I did nothing! What the fuck did you do, Malfoy?!"

"I did nothing," Draco answered snootily, his face an expression of distaste at the Gryffindor's swearing. "This is all your fault!"

"My fault?" Harry repeated, faintly. He stared around him, taking in the empty moors and the softly falling rain that made the surrounding area hazy with mist. "This is not my fault, Malfoy, I didn't throw the first hex!"

Draco scoffed, angry with himself because, dammit but Potter was right. He had thrown the first spell and even though he knew Potter would have thrown the first if he'd had the chance, he hadn't; and Draco _hated_ being at fault. Not that it _was_. Stupid Gryffindors. He twirled his wand, thinking. Where the fuck were they?

"I don't know, Malfoy," Potter answered snarkily. "Maybe you should ask your Daddy!"

Draco, who hadn't realised that he'd asked that out loud, bared his teeth and snapped off a quick reducto at the damn Gryffindor, who smirked at him. "Don't you dare talk about my father, Potter!"

"Touchy, touchy," Harry jibed cruelly, dodging the blasting curse with ridiculous ease. "Why, Malfoy, you miss him already?"

"At least I have a father to miss, Potter," Draco shouted, crossing his wand in front of his body in a diagonal line and sending the twitchy ears hex back at Potter with a smug smirk.

Harry's face contorted with rage, "expulso!" He shouted, shooting his wand forwards and sending Draco flying backwards with a shocked expression. "Says the boy with the Death Eater Daddy," Harry panted. "My Dad's a hero, Malfoy, can you say the same?"

Draco struggled upright, tugging his robes straight and twisted his lips bitterly, "yeah, because having a hero for a father is so much better than having a live one!" Draco felt his jaw ripple with rage, his fist tightening on his wand handle. "So Potter, tell me, are you like your bully of a father or like your mudblood whore mother?"

The Gryffindor stiffened, his eyes blazing with fury. With a wordless roar, Harry cast his wand aside and charged the Slytherin, tackling the other boy and thundering the blondes face with his fists. Punctuating every word with another hit, Harry worked over Draco's face, beating him bloody. "Don't. Talk. About. Them. Like. That. You. Death. Eater. Swine!"

Draco felt Potter climb off him, breathing heavily and let out a whining moan as he spat a bloody tooth from his mouth. "Mudblood, muggle lover!" Draco snapped, his eyes and nose puffy. Gingerly feeling his cheeks, Draco was relieved to find that neither of his cheekbones nor his nose or jaw were broken. Badly bruised, yes; but not broken. "Can't even punch properly," Draco goaded.

Harry bit his teeth together with a sharp snap, his fists, bruised and bloody knuckles cracking, tightening menacingly. "Shut up, Malfoy," Harry ordered. "Before I kill you!"

"You don't have the guts, Potter!" Malfoy retorted, rubbing his chest.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, spinning around to pin the blonde with his fury filled glare. "Do you want to die, or something?!" Draco stiffened, unconsciously agreeing with the dark haired boy's assessment and Harry let out a disbelieving laugh. "You do, don't you?" Harry said, surprised but gleeful. "Why? You getting cold feet, Malfoy? Being a Death Eater no longer the fun and glory you expected, huh?"

Draco straightened, drawing himself up to his full, nearly six-foot tall height, his gaze angry and defensive. "Shut up, Potter," he snarled. "You don't know anything!"

"_No one can help me_," Harry mocked. "_He says he'll kill me!_" Harry sneered, "not fun is it? Being one of them!"

Draco backed away, shock and fear filling his expression. "Shut up, you don't understand!"

"Oh, I understand alright," Harry corrected, still sneering, furious. "What did he promise you, Malfoy? Fame? Glory? Riches?" Harry laughed bitterly, shaking his head and spread his arms wide. "You know he's lying right? He has no intention in rewarding you. You do what he says and then when your usefulness runs its course, he kills you!"

"What would you know?" Draco shouted, pain and panic flaring in his chest. Above their heads the rain slowed and a single crow circled, wings flared and cushioned on a pillow of air. Hovering like a sentinel above the two boys' heads. "You don't know anything!"

"I know that he'll kill you, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, throwing his hand backwards, pointing as if at Voldemort was standing there, watching them. "He's a liar and a cheat! You're gonna die! Is that what you want? Huh? You so fucking eager to die that you sold your soul to the Devil?!"

"Shut up!" Draco screamed, his voice raw and he pointed his wand at Harry, the tip leaking green energy. "Shut up, you don't know what you're saying. The devils not real, Potter. He's not the devil!"

"No?" Harry demanded, angry and somehow, pleading. "You so fucking sure about that, Malfoy? You so sure that he's gonna uphold his end of the bargain?"

"Why do you care, anyway?" Draco asked angrily. "What does it matter if I die?"

Harry stared at Draco incredulously and then, with a pained expression, threw his head back and laughed bitterly. "I don't." Harry breathed, shaking his head. "I don't care," he repeated. "But somehow, I think you do. And you know, don't you?" Harry said softly, staring into Draco's eyes. "You know that you're not gonna live through this, and you -you don't care do you?"

Draco's mouth twisted, panic, fear, sadness and anger warring with each other for domination. After several long seconds of struggle, Draco dropped his head, tears filling his eyes again as he confronted the very idea of dying at age sixteen and knew that Potter was, once more, right. Lifting his head, Draco met Potter's gaze, which now shone with pity and sympathy, and like a tidal wave, rage overtook his good sense and sadness and he levelled his wand once more at Potter's chest.

"I don't want your pity, Potter!" Draco snarled, "_avada kedavra!_"

Harry barely had time to widen his eyes in shock before the bolt of green light hit his chest, lifted him up and flung him twenty feet backwards. He landed with a hollow thud on the damp, slippery grass and Draco felt something within his chest tear. Crying out, Draco flung himself forwards and landed at Harry's side. Draco bent over the prone form of the only other human around and felt tears of shock and panic swell and spill down his cheeks. What had he done?

"Harry?" Draco gasped, shaking the raven haired boys shoulders. "Harry?!" Above his head the crow circled lower and lower, its beady eyes focused on the boys below. "Harry, wake up!" Draco pleaded. "Please, I'm sorry. I don't wanna go to Azkaban, please wake up!"

The dark haired boy lay flat on his back, his eyes and mouth wide with surprise and above him the crow circled ever lower while Draco Malfoy, Ice Prince of Slytherin, wept over his steadily cooling corpse. All around them, the moors of Scotland were threaded with a swiftly gathering mist. The sight was eery and reminiscent of a time when Gods, Magic, Angels and Demons walked the world; and as Draco's soft sobs quieted and a gentle breeze lifted the feathers of the crow above their heads, not a sound could be heard.

**xXx**

Harry stood in shock above Draco's hunched form, watching the blonde cradle the dead body -_his_ dead body!- to his chest. The land was silent, mist wreathed and a tiny bit frightening. Staring around him, Harry bit his lip in indecision, wavering between fleeing the area and trying to warn Draco. A sound, like a fluttering of wings, sounded behind him and Harry spun around and stared in shocked awe at the man before him.

Tall with ink dark hair and honey coloured skin, the man stared at him emotionlessly. He was dressed in a black suit with a white collared shirt, his hands hanging loosely at his side while his head slowly tilted, curious. Harry couldn't help but take a step back, frightened as he felt the aura of the man, usually barely detectable in wizards, enfolded him with a gentle, but warning, caress.

"Harry Potter," the man stated in a slow, smooth voice. "We were not meant to meet so early, you are over a year ahead of schedule, my boy."

Harry really meant to ask what the man meant by 'ahead of schedule', he really did; but instead what came out was: "who are you?" Harry flushed, feeling like he was eleven years old again and standing in the corner of that run down shack in the middle of no where, staring up at Hagrid's kind, hairy face.

The man laughed, a hollow, dead sound that was more creepy than comforting, and smiled coldly. "I am Death."

Harry yelped in shock, backing away rapidly and tripping over the corners of his school robes. "Death?" He squeaked, shocked. "How can you be Death?!"

Death shrugged his shoulders, unperturbed by Harry's attempts at fleeing the area. "I always have been," Death replied slowly. Unhurried. Deliberate. Death looked around himself, curious. "This is not your world, Harry. I have no jurisdiction here. You cannot die."

Harry gaped, shock once more overriding his system. "But I have to die! I just got hit by the killing curse!"

Death inclined his head in agreement, "you did yes."

Harry waited. "Well?" He demanded. "If I just got hit by the killing curse, then surely I'm dead!"

"Not exactly," Death replied, staring at Harry unblinkingly. "You do not belong on this world and so your soul will not be reaped by the Reapers that work on this Earth."

"Wait, not of this world?" Harry repeated, anxious. "What do you mean by that?!"

"Precisely what it sounds like," Death answered. "This is not the world you were born on. I am here on visiting privileges only." Death shrugged once more, returning his gaze to the horizon. "You are, essentially, immortal."

"But-" Harry stammered. "But what about Voldemort? What about Hogwarts and Ron and Hermione?" Harry started to shake, his body trembling with the force of his tremors. "I have to get back."

"You cannot," Death denied. "Only God could return you and he has since left this place. One day, he may be found, but until then, you are on your own."

"No," Harry breathed, shaking his head in denial. "I have to get home!"

"You have no home on that world anymore," Death replied flatly. "This is your home now. Your souls have already become intertwined with the magic of this place. You cannot die. You cannot return."

"Is there anything I can do?" Harry demanded, shrilly.

"Yes," Death said, turning to stare at Harry once more. His eyes, black as midnight, were pupil-less and flat. "You can live."

**xXx**

Draco was leaning over Harry's body, shaking and pulling at the other boys shoulders. He'd never meant to kill him, and as he pleaded with Harry to wake up, he felt tears leak from the corners of his eyes. Beneath him, the ground slowly gave way, the sound of tearing grass and the feel of a cool breeze only emphasising the terrible empty loneliness he felt. Sure, he hated Potter, but that didn't mean he wanted the other boy to die. He never wanted to kill anyone. He wanted to keep his soul whole and shining silver.

Below Draco, Harry's body suddenly bowed, his hips thrusting upwards and his chest inflating with a gasping breath. Green eyes were flooded with light and warmth and pale lips bled red as his blood circulated his body once more. Draco yelped, leaning back as Harry shot forwards, the green-eyed boys arms whacking the sides of his head as they wrapped around his shoulders. Harry cried, his chest heaving with wracking sobs, even as he clung fiercely to Draco's shoulders, pulling the blonde in tightly, forcing Draco to pant for air.

"Harry?" Draco asked weakly, confused by the turn of events. The sight of Harry's stunned body being picked up and hurled backwards playing over and over in his minds eyes. While the undeniable proof of Harry's life clung to him as though he might disappear at any moment.

"Don't leave me," Harry chanted, "please, Draco, don't leave me!"

Draco blinked slowly, trying to pry his enemies arms from around his neck. "Okay," he agreed carefully. "I won't leave you, you just need to let go."

"NO!" Harry cried, his voice shrill. "You can't!"

"Harry!" Draco snapped, his patience wearing thin. "What happened? You _died_!"

Draco's words, though harsh, were truthful enough to snap the darker haired boy back into reality. Harry let out a horrified gasp and flung himself backwards, freeing himself from Draco's embrace. The blonde watched him carefully, in denial that he missed the fierce clinginess that Harry inspired in him. In the sky where the crow had circled above them, it was empty of all life.

"I died," Harry repeated blankly.

"Yes," Draco agreed hesitantly.

"You killed me," Harry added unsurely.

"I'm sorry?" Draco offered.

"I'm alive?" Harry continued, staring at his hands.

"Yes," Draco agreed, relieved that Harry didn't appear to want to kill him. Or worse.

"I saw Death," Harry said, his voice vacant and his eyes distant.

Draco felt his mouth flop open. "I'm sorry, what?" He demanded, "how can you have seen Death? Death isn't real!"

"Oh, Death is very real," a soft voice interjected. "A better question would be, how did you meet him?"

Both boys spun around and stared at the woman dressed in a black robe that stood before them. Her eyes were a dark violet and her hair a deep blue-black, silky and shining. Her features were aristocratic, like Draco's, with high, sharp cheekbones and a fine nose and sculpted lips. She was beautiful and looked like royalty, a small knowing smile tilting her lips upwards while her raven brows swept towards her hairline in clear amusement at their reaction to her presence.

"Forgive me," she murmured in a deep contralto, her voice smooth like honey. "I just wished to know why I suddenly had two children when I was quite sure I had none."

Draco's face, already pale, whitened with shock and he flung himself at the woman's feet, lowering his head, his hair brushing his cheek bones as he knelt before her. "Forgive me, my Lady, I am unworthy!" He breathed, eyes wide with shock.

Harry stared between them, his eyes wide, "Malfoy, what are you doing?"

"Down, Potter!" Draco ordered harshly, "unless you have a death wish!"

Harry slowly mimicked the blonde, confusion sweeping across his features, "why-"

"Shut up!" Draco's face was panicked, his body trembling. "This is the Lady of the Wizarding world, Potter, don't you know _anything_?!"

"Muggle raised, Malfoy," Harry shot back acidly. "What do you mean, 'the Lady of the Wizarding world'? I thought wizards didn't have a god!"

Draco shot the darker haired boy an incredulous look, "you're kidding right?"

"No!" Harry snapped.

Danu stared at the two quarrelling boys at her feet, confusion and curiosity bubbling beneath her calm exterior. The blonde, his patrician features tainted by fear and worry, clearly knew more bout this situation than the raven haired boy. Although both were handsome and of the right age, Danu knew that they were children of her house. How this could be, she couldn't say, after all, her children had long since passed. Murdered by the Romans and their followers.

Tiring of their arguments, Danu raised a hand, ceasing their quarrel. She had not missed the quarrelsome nature of boys or girls, though she had missed their gentle smiles and joyous laughs. Perhaps she would regain such things through the boys at her feet. "Explain, little warrior, where do you hail from? Why do you feel the same as my children?"

"We are your children!" Draco exclaimed, his words tripping over themselves as they spilled from his lips. "All wizards are descended from the Great Lady and her children; borne of Arianrhod and her fated son, Lleu Llaw Gyffes. There they lived for many centuries, protecting those unblessed from the Horned One's hunt and guiding and guarding the gates of the Tír na nÓg, the Land of the Forever Young."

Draco's voice had long since taken on a lyrical chant-like tone, telling a story that all Black's learnt. The tale of wizards and witches, and why the purity of blood was so very important.

"But then, one day, the ones of golden hair came, their eyes coloured of the sky, land and trees. They came with iron, they came with steel. They came bearing fire, blood and death. They came on their longships, with bows of oak and axes of steel. They fell upon Blessed and the unBlessed alike. Rending, reaping and destroying.

"Fleeing the English purge to land on the far northern Isle and hiding in plain sight. Discovery by the ones with crooked noses, honeyed skin and dark eyes in the new Age brought blood, fire and death to the Children of the Great Lady; angered and filled with despair, She descended from glorious heights upon a chariot of fire. The ones for the far East felt awe and fear at her visage, and foreswore harm to their people.

"A Treaty was signed, and the Children of the Great Lady left the Southern lands, retreating to the North, behind a great stone wall that marked their southern most boundary. Taking with them gold, silver and amber. There they built a school, a towering place of stone, wood and glass. A place of learning and safety. There we flourished until the rise of Christianity.

"The rise of the false God of Abraham poisoned the land, our Mother screamed her pain, and we drove them back. Again and again the false God pushed forwards. Again and again we sent them back, their tails between their legs. Again and again, our land, our people, our Great Lady was safe.

"But, oh my child, we payed. In the blood of our sons. In the blood of our daughters. In the blood of our fathers.

"And then, the great wall of stone and promise broke and crumbled. Struck by the press of the Christian hordes, our people broke and ran. Fleeing to the far North, creating an isle of despair, hidden and freezing. But it was too late.

"Determined, the Children of the false God rounded our people up, stricken and fearful of our blessing. Setting us alight and sending us to the Fields of the Forever Young, too soon and too early." Draco's head was bowed as he related the death of his people and beside him, Harry felt his magic, his soul react to these words. As if they were a memory remembered. "It was then, upon the brink of destruction, that the elders of our people betrayed us.

"Frightened for our survival they approached the Leaders of the Church and their King. They pleaded for mercy, for a ceasing of the death and destruction, of the fire and the pain; and the King agreed.

"A new treaty was signed, those of the Blessed were little more than cattle, to be branded and restricted. Kept hidden and fearful for their lives. Advancement was prevented and denied. New spells and charms denied. We were at the whim of a man who saw us as nothing more than assets to be traded and shared. To be sent to all four corners of the globe."

Draco trailed off, the anger and bitterness in his voice like poison as he fisted his hands and gripped the grass at the feet of the wizarding worlds Great Lady. The Great Lady who had ignored their cries for salvation. Their pleas for help and mercy.

"I do not know any of this," Danu murmured, his voice cracking with pain and sadness for she felt the truth of the little warriors words. The truth of the story. "This is not the history of this place."

Draco frowned in confusion, "what do you mean?" He asked, "that makes no sense!"

"Something Death told me," Harry said slowly, his memory returning swiftly. "This is not our world. We were removed. We cannot go back."

Draco gaped in horror, "but our magic, our people!"

"Our friends, our families," Harry retorted, sneering at the Slytherin. "Or are they not important to you, Malfoy?"

"Of course they are, but surely you've noticed that your magic gets stronger when in the presence of others like you, Potter!" Draco cried, shock coursing through his system.

Harry gaped, dumbfounded. "It does?"

"Of course it does! That's why muggleborns are so much weaker than purebloods; because we have access to out parents magic as well as the sentient magic of our ancestral houses. Why do you think that purebloods are so closely related?" Draco sneered coldly. "It's not because we enjoy fucking our cousins, brothers or sisters, Potter! It's because by maintaining close familial relations with our families, we are able to enhance our own magical growth!"

"Why is this never told to us?" Harry demanded, angry.

"Because, it's forbidden!" Draco snapped. "The Kings and Queens of England deny us our practises and traditions. They're trying to control us!"

Danu listened to the blonde boy explain, slightly sickened by the cruel nature of humans, knowing that these boys, while human, were also _more_. They were descended of Gods. They were bred with magic in their very bones, and as she lowered her hands to their heads, she could feel their youthful vitality brimming beneath their skin.

"You are my sons," she breathed, pleasure coursing through her. A sad smile broke across her lips, "but you are damaged. You both hurt so badly." She drew up her own power, Grace the angels of the High God called it, and pushed it into their bodies.

Draco gasped, liquid heat burning through his veins and pooling in his chest. His father had not been kind, and while Draco loved his father dearly, he was far more frightened of the man. With wands and magic, pain was not always caused by splitting skin and causing bruises. All that was needed was the manipulation of nerves and then you were introduced to a pain that was so unique that it was indescribable.

Above Draco, Danu manipulated the heat through his body, correcting the damage caused by years of mistreatment. She felt indignant and righteous anger at the feel of his heart, fluttering and weak; the feel of his nerves, strung tight and wired with a predisposition towards pain; the feel of his lungs, surging with every breath, gasping and frail. Whoever had done this to him was cruel beyond measure. Not the least was his mind, damaged and scarred; it was a wonder that the blonde boy was able to think, let alone speak.

Harry felt his bones stretch and warp beneath the harsh touch of the Goddess above him. The treatment of his relatives, never family, being burned away with her divine touch. Malnutrition, corrected with a gentle touch; brittle bones, remade strong; heart, liver, lungs and intestines, healed by the burning light of the Great Lady Danu, and Harry felt his magic react to her presence. Welcoming and kind, showing where the worst damage was. Correcting his sight, his teeth, his hearing.

Once she was done, Danu stepped back and stared at their changed features, proud at the beauty of their souls, their magic. She reached down and drew them to their feet; the darker haired boy swaying as he realised that there'd been an extra six inches added to his pitiful height. Draco stared at his hands, marvelling at their steadiness and strength. While Harry pulled off his glasses with wonder, tracing his tongue around his mouth, revelling in his whole and painless teeth. They were no longer the broken boys of yesterday, but were Danu's children remade in the image of their Mother and God. Whole once more.

"I don't hurt anymore," Harry marvelled, the pain of his past so second nature that it was strange not to feel it anymore. "I feel like I can fly!" Harry grinned, his previously crooked teeth straightened and whitened, enhancing his natural features to a raw handsomeness that had Draco smiling back.

"Well don't go doing that, Potter," Draco couldn't help but laugh, joyous and free. "I don't think you'll get too far without a broom."

Danu watched her sons rib and tease the each other, marvelling at their hardy strength and smiling gently. "My sons," she called softly, settling them down with a quiet touch. "What are those sticks you carry? They feel of foreign and unnatural power."

Draco's smile slid off his face, wariness blooming in his eyes and he cradled his wand close and tight to his chest, the tip pressing just beneath his chin. "Wands, Mother, they are called wands." Draco replied, "tools to help us access out magic, brought over by the Romans during the invasion of Briton*."

"They taste of foulness and wrong," Danu hissed, her violet eyes darkening to near black as she scowled darkly at the wands. "You should throw them away-"

"What?" Draco shouted, forgetting his own warnings about upsetting a Goddess. "And be cut off from our magic? Are you insane?!"

Danu reeled back, her eyes wide with surprise, "how can the removal of Roman trickery make you lose your magic? It is as much a part of you as your hair or arms!"

Draco flushed brilliant pink, licking his lips. "Once perhaps, we could have," Draco admitted. "But now, with the blood lines so thin, it is impossible for us."

"And if I were to Bless you, would that not give you your birthright back?" Danu asked curiously.

"In theory," Draco conceded.

Harry, confused by the conversation between Draco and Danu, examined his wand, thinking hard. "Are you offended by the sight of the wands or is there something wrong with them?" He asked the Goddess.

Danu considered the question, getting the feeling that Harry was the more sensitive of the two boys, for all that he knew little of Magical Lore. "There is nothing inherently wrong with them," she finally admitted.

"And if we were to, say, bind the wand to our bodies and accept the Blessing you give us, to purify our magic," Harry said slowly, "what then?"

Danu smiled almost cruelly, her pagan nature amused by the boys hesitant curiosity. "You would be as demigods in your power," Danu replied, understanding her sons line of thought. "Something I am not adverse to."

"And control," Harry asked, "how would we regain it? Because somehow, I get the feeling that the increase of power in our bodies might be a tad… detrimental to our health, let alone those around us."

Danu tossed her head back and laughed, her eyes dancing with delight and a brilliant smile on her lips. "Oh my son, what you ask, it is glorious." Then, without further consideration, more because she delighted in chaos and ruin, than because she wished to harm her newly discovered sons, she grabbed their arms holding the wands and chanted, over and over, in a harsh tone of voice:

"_Gceangal orthu. Séalaigh orthu. Le chéile iad. Déan iad a ceann leis an gceann eile. Iad ina gceangal go deo.**_"

Harry fell to his knees, screaming. His wand, which had been laid against his right forearm, melted into his skin. Leaving behind an ashy scar that detailed the wand he'd once called his. While the wand melded with his body, his magic erupted, furious as the daring intrusion by a different magical entity. It was only because of the past six years of magical use that Harry's magic ceased rebelling, recognising a spark of itself within the wands interior, and finally accepted the foreign entity as its own. Beside him, Draco felt the same, on his knees and howling to the sky, tears streaming down his face. The tone of Danu's chant changed, becoming sweeter, malicious but welcoming. The words changing, the effect morphing from pain to welcome warmth. Like that of a mothers hug.

"I_, Danu, an bandia Máthair na nGael, an draíochta, a éileamh dhuit mar mo pháistí. Iompartha ar na gaotha an Athraithe, chuig domhan seo ag an Fates, cumasach le draíocht, cúisithe Chosaint, mé a thabhairt dhuit mo Blessing. Go raibh tú Sábháilte, Bhuel agus Sláintiúil, ní féidir a fhios agat eagla, is féidir a fhios agat calma agus tá a fhios go deo níos mó go mbeidh mé grá dhuit_.***"

Danu lowered her arms, smiling gently at her newly claimed sons and stepped backwards. The moors around them, rain slicked and muddy, were empty and silent, the screams of Harry and Draco having chased away every sensible being and warned every other that there was something dangerous stalking these hills. Harry, who had no memory of falling to his knees, staggered upright, pulling Draco up with him, both boys trembling from the aftershocks of their magical adoption.

"Merlin," Draco groaned, running trembling hands down his face. "Never again."

"Agreed," Harry panted, resting a hand on his new brothers shoulder, gripping it tightly.

Danu smirked, revelling in the connection and the increased power she could feel, knowing that her new sons would bring glory and worship to her over the coming years. She was a pagan goddess, there was no love or forgiveness in her that she felt wasn't deserved, and the peoples who had abandoned her these past five centuries would suffer a hell like never seen before. She would make them scream! Unaware of their adopted mothers cruel thoughts, Harry and Draco were busy marvelling at the undeniable increase of their magical connection, feeling their power flowing up from the very Earth itself, rejuvenating them.

"This is divine," Draco breathed without thought, rolling his shoulders as his magical pathways expanded and increased in density.

Harry groaned in agreement, a broad smile stretching his lips. "Agreed brother, tis truly most divine."

Danu rolled her eyes, their stilted words a left over of her presence, and knew that within days her boys would be back to screaming at and hating each other. It would take them decades to resolve their issues; decades that Death had granted them.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked, curiously as he rubbed at his forearm, feeling the barely-there bumps and ridges of his old wand, now joined with his very flesh and bones.

Danu shrugged, unconcerned. "Whatever it is you desire," she replied, waving a hand over the moors. "You have no restraint on you, my sons. I care little for your actions unless you shame our House."

Draco felt a wild smile break out across his face, "you mean we're free to go?" He asked, practically vibrating with excitement. "As in, no matter where we go, we are free to do as we wish?"

Harry couldn't help but mimic his brothers expression, "wicked!"

"Of course," Danu interjected slyly, interrupting Draco and Harry's brief celebrations. "Theres still something that needs to be discussed."

Draco stilled, turning silver eyes on the Goddess noting the crafty expression in her eyes, "oh?" He asked, nervousness bleeding into his voice.

"Indeed," Danu smirked, knowing that she was making her eldest son nervous. "I desire that you both…" she paused, extending the moment out, knowing that both her new children were hanging on her every word. "Have the most fun that you can!"

Then, with a twirl, she transformed herself into a large crow and flew off, cawing loudly. Leaving Harry and Draco lone on the moors, their faces turned upwards and expressions of shocked delight on their faces. Neither teen had expected their new mother figure to order them to have fun. What kind of parental figure did that anyway? Harry, as a person who'd never really had family before, was pretty certain that he was out of his depth here, utterly lost as to what to do. While Draco was more concerned about when the other shoe would drop and Danu would go from kind to cruel, much like Narcissa and Lucius had.

Harry, after standing quietly and staring up at the sky with bemused green eyes, his hand still resting on his new brothers shoulder, cocked his head to the side, casting Draco a wary glance and twisted his lips into a wry smile. "So, what now?"

* * *

><p><strong>xXx<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note and Explanations<span>

Now, before anyone freaks out and jumps down my throat for spelling 'Britain' wrong, I would like to explain, briefly, some early British history. Prior to the arrival of the Romans, those who lived on the British Isles were called Brits, or Britons, and were descended from the Gaul's (French) who had fled the 'barbarian hordes of the North' (otherwise known as Germans today) during the early sixth century BCE.

Geographically speaking, Scotland at the time was populated by a people known as the Picts, the Britons congregated in and around what is now called Wales, while, ironically, the Scots lived in Ireland.

Now, that having been said and explained; I'm a sucker for constructive criticism and if you have something to say, well, suffice to say I'm all ears. I'm not a super-massive fan of Supernatural, and while I enjoy it well enough, I must admit to being relatively new to the fandom, so, if you see anything that doesn't fit, or needs fixing, please tell me. I have no beta reader and that kind of inaccuracy drives me up the wall.

Thank you and kind regards,

Sar'Kalu

* * *

><p><span>Irish Translations:<span>

**Bind them. Seal them. Combine them. Make them one with the other. Bind them forever.

*******I, Danu, the Mother Goddess of the Irish, the magical, claim thee as my children. Borne on the winds of Change, sent to this world by the Fates, gifted with magic, charged with Protection, I give thee my Blessing. May you be Safe, Well and Healthy, may you never know fear, may you know calm and know that forever more that I shall love thee.


End file.
